


Inevitably

by space_in_between



Category: Nine Percent, 偶像练习生 | Idol Producer (TV)
Genre: M/M, Pre-Relationship, Red String of Fate, it's the modified version idek, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-09
Updated: 2018-04-09
Packaged: 2019-04-20 17:39:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14266227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/space_in_between/pseuds/space_in_between
Summary: Zhangjing has a thread of red strings on his hand and they're connected to Yanjun.





	Inevitably

The first string appears loose around Zhangjing’s right wrist when the second elimination is just around the corner.

He thinks it’s a joke at first, even though he doesn’t understand where the humour is. Why would anyone wrap a thin red string around his wrist if it wasn’t for a joke, anyway? So he walks to Dinghao that night after practice ends and hits him on the back of his head, startling the younger boy.

“What the hell was that for, Zhangjing-ge?!” Dinghao rubs on the sore part of his head—sometimes Zhangjing doesn’t have enough control of his strength and it mostly happens when he uses violence to people. Zhangjing squints at the younger, but Dinghao doesn’t seem to get his message.

“Are you guys playing a game involving me without me knowing?” Zhangjing asks, lifting his right hand. “Before you complain, you explain to me what _this_ is and we can discuss about it.”

Dinghao narrows his eyes to focus on Zhangjing’s hand, and he pulls back with a weird look. “What is _this_?”

“This,” Zhangjing points to his wrist impatiently, “can’t you see this clear and visible thing around my wrist? God, don’t play dumb. I know you guys are trying to play trick on me, but it doesn’t happen this time. Elimination is right in front of us and we don’t have time to play cat and mouse.”

“I really don’t know what you are talking about,” says Dinghao, shaking his head. “First, I don’t see anything on your wrist, ge, so I don’t get what is the clear and visible thing around your wrist because it’s clearly not visible for me. Second, we don’t play trick or cat and mouse—seriously, what kind of dumb fool play around during this time, when we’re in a state between life and death?”

Zhangjing blinks. He takes Dinghao’s hand and put it on top of his wrist, right where the red string is touching his skin. “You really can’t feel anything?”

Dinghao pulls his hand back with a slightly terrified face. “I can’t feel anything but your hand. Are you sure you’re okay, Zhangjing-ge? Please get some rest, you’re seriously exhausted. Probably. Or no, most likely.”

Zhangjing sighs and nods. “Maybe you’re right,” he says. “I’m just tired. Maybe I’m just seeing things.”

“What are you seeing?”

Zhangjing and Dinghao turn their heads simultaneously to Yanjun, leaning one shoulder on the doorframe, staring at them in tired but curious face. “You guys are being too loud, it’s almost midnight,” he adds, ruffling on his already dishevelled hair.

“Zhangjing-ge is being weird but it’s probably because either he’s sleep deprived or his brain is too exhausted after memorising lyrics and choreography,” Dinghao shrugs, his fast reflexes save him from being kicked in the ass by Zhangjing. “You can ask Yanjun if you don’t believe me. I really can’t see anything on your hand.”

Yanjun lands his eyes on Zhangjing’s hand with a frown, but Zhangjing quickly pulls his long sleeve to cover it. He’s thankful he currently wears his training sweatsuit so it isn’t hard to hide the so called invisible string to Dinghao, but somehow Zhangjing still feels cautious because he doesn’t trust Dinghao completely.

“You have something on your hand?” Yanjun asks. Zhangjing shakes his head, but Yanjun doesn’t buy it immediately. “Are you sure? Did you hurt your hand?”

Zhangjing shakes his head once again. “I didn’t hurt my hand, I’m okay, I promise. Don’t worry. Dinghao was right, I was just exhausted. Let’s go, aren’t you going to sleep?”

Zhangjing knows Yanjun is still curious but he doesn’t say anything. He places his hands on Zhangjing’s shoulders, squeezes them gently as he pushes him out of the room.

“Yeah, come on. I’ll go after you.”

  


 

The next strings appear on the night after the second elimination is concluded. Zhangjing is still mesmerised with the result—he’s ranked eighth!—when he glances at his wrist and realises another three strings are already there, making a parallel line with the first one. Zhangjing frowns, pulling on the strings to detach them from his hand, but they don’t move an inch.

“Is your hand itching?” Ling Chao asks, peeking from his chair beside Zhangjing on the ninth seat. “You’ve been scratching it for minutes now.”

“Ah, no,” Zhangjing smiles and puts his hands behind his back. “I mean, yes, it’s itching. Maybe it has something to do with the fabric of my clothes.” He brings out his hands again and puts them on top of his thighs. Way to go to look natural, Zhangjing mentally curses himself. Ling Chao peers at his hand observingly for three seconds and he probably decides that it isn’t a good gossip material—or perhaps he can’t see the strings like Dinghao—so he looks up and smiles at Zhangjing.

“By the way, ge, someone has been looking at you from below with such an intense stare. Like thiiiiis,” Ling Chao widens his eyes comically and Zhangjing can’t help but laugh. “Seems like he wants to talk to you, but you don’t look at his direction.”

Zhangjing diverts his eyes from Ling Chao to the rows below his seat, and his eyes immediately meet Yanjun’s from the seat number 22. Yanjun is smiling at him, mouthing a _Congrats, you deserved that_ and Zhangjing’s smile spreads automatically. It’s always easy to smile when Yanjun’s around, even when he does nothing or when he does something to annoy Zhangjing. Zhangjing nods and gives him a thumbs up with his right hand, but he quickly puts his hand down and replaces it with his other hand. Yanjun raises an eyebrow at him to which Zhangjing reply with a toothy grin.

He doesn’t know why he feels anxious about his hand in front of Yanjun even though Yanjun probably can’t see the strings like the others, but Zhangjing just feels weirdly insecure. He doesn’t know what makes him want to keep this as a secret from the other boy, so Zhangjing will keep it as a secret until he knows why.

  


 

“You wear long sleeve shirts often these days,” Chaoze comments one day, when they’re taking a break after practicing for what feels like eternity. “Aren’t you hot? You keep on moving during practice.”

“Our choreography isn’t that intense, and I’m just cold because Jeffrey and Lao Han want the air conditioner to always make us feel like we’re practicing inside a fridge.”

Chaoze laughs. “Well, that may be true. But I’m talking about the days off practice, too. I think I have never seen you wear anything but long sleeves.”

Zhangjing rolls his eyes at his friend. “Do you love me that much? I won’t even notice if you and Dinghao didn’t change clothes for three days, but thanks anyway. I’m going to make this my trademark so everyone who wears long sleeve shirt has to credit me.”

“What a wimp,” Chaoze clicks his tongue mockingly and laughs. “Then, you have to start charging Yanjun. He’s been wearing long sleeves shirts too, for whatever reason. Are you two dating? Why aren’t you wearing the same shirts, then? Take it to the next level.”

Zhangjing punches Chaoze’s arm hard, annoyed. “With all due respect, shut the fuck up. You’re a dead meat if anyone hears that.”

Chaoze cackles, patting Zhangjing’s head despite him being the younger one between the two. “My cute, beloved Zhangjing-ge, who knows you’re a fool when it comes to love? Come on, who in the world cannot tell the way you’re looking at Yanjun is the look of a man in love? Your eyes are fucking _sparkling_ , you know. Even Justin notices that.”

Zhangjing’s eyes widen in terror. “What does Justin notice?”

“Your undying yet unspoken love for Yanjun,” Chaoze says thoughtfully. “But Justin is smart and he’s hanging out with Fan Chengcheng and Zhu Zhengting, so I’m not surprised he finds out faster than anyone else besides me. Actually, I wanted to ask you about this since a long time ago, too. Are you seriously in love with him? Like, romantically?”

Zhangjing lets out a loud sigh. “Can anyone look at him in the eye and not fall in love?”

Chaoze scrunches his nose, “Honestly, we _all_ can except you.”

“That’s so helpful,” Zhangjing deadpans at Chaoze. “Wait, you told me just now that he also wore long sleeve shirts too these days? Why?”

“I don’t know, but the Firewalking team don’t take it seriously since Yanjun is the type who does whatever he wants so we don’t ask him. It’s just, you two are my closest friends so it’s noticeable for me.”

“You know too much,” Zhangjing whines. “And please stop asking me any question regarding my crush on _that_ person. I’m not even sure about that myself, so—”

“Is Lin Yanjun handsome?”

“Of course he is!”

“Will you pick him over food?”

“Um, well, isn’t it better to pick him _and_ then we go get food together?”

“There, your maiden heart is showing so visibly right now,” Chaoze kicks the air as he laughs his ass off. “Zhangjing-ge, you’re one hundred percent positively in love with Lin Yanjun. Accept it, and I don’t know, probably confess? Yanjun might like you back.”

“Don’t get my hopes up, chipmunk. I hate you.”

“I’m just trying to help,” Chaoze calmly replies. “It’s only Yanjun, you know. He’s our friend, your best friend. The world isn’t going to end if you tell him you like him regardless what his answer would be. Besides, you’re over once Dinghao finds out. That kid will run his mouth off to everyone in the dorm and he’ll make you a bridal shower event before this show ends.”

“ _LIN CHAOZE!_ ”

  


 

(“Would you believe me if I say I have something around my wrist but weirdly only I can see it?” Zhangjing asks Chaoze, slowly rolling up his sleeve to touch on the strings. The gap between the strings are getting smaller and in normal situation it’ll appear as Zhangjing wears a red bracelet. It’s beautiful, he has to admit, but also creepy as hell at the same time.

“The red strings?” Chaoze asks, peering over at Zhangjing’s hand. “Right, I can’t see them, though.”

Zhangjing blinks, “How did you know?”

Chaoze gives him a weird look. “What do you mean? Everyone has them. It’s the thing that will lead you to your destined love, or so they said. You didn’t know that? Geez, Zhangjing-ge, you’re supposed to be the elder one between us.”

“I didn’t believe it in my entire life,” Zhangjing hums. “It sounds really fantasy for me.”

“But it’s true and now you’re seeing it yourself,” says Chaoze. “How many are there around your wrist?”

“Ten or so, probably more. The amount is increasing every night.”

“Wait until the strings are long enough to choke you to death, so you have no reason not to confess to Lin Yanjun.”

Zhangjing sighs exasperatedly, “What are you so loud about me confessing to Yanjun for?!”

“It’s because,” Chaoze looks straightly at Zhangjing, voice deep and serious. “You have to do that so I can win the bet I made with the other trainees.”

Zhangjing makes a disgusted face and pulls on Chaoze’s hair until the latter lets out an ear-splitting scream of pain. “I hope the strings are long enough soon to choke _you_ to death.”)

  


 

Yanjun asks Zhangjing to have a small talk the night after the third elimination.

“This is weird,” he says. “I start to hear your voice inside my head. And it’s crazy because I _know_ it’s your voice, but you aren’t even near me.”

Zhangjing raises an eyebrow, “How so? Are you _thinking_ about my voice?”

“Your voice rings on my head even before I think about it,” Yanjun says with one hand caressing his left wrist. “I thought I could not get any weirder after the red strings on my wrist.”

Zhangjing gasps, “You have red strings on your wrist, too?”

Yanjun nods. “I do, it’s been a while now. I am the only one who can see them though, and now the strings are tight enough to stop my blood circulation,” he says with a stifled laugh. “Do you have them too?”

Zhangjing nods, not bothering to hide his shock. “I’ve had them for a while. Do you know what’s the meaning behind it?”

“No, I wonder about it too. My mother said the person at the end of the string was someone who was meant to be with me. My teenager self thought it was very romantic, but now I don’t know. I just hope the person would be someone whom I loved before I met them.”

Zhangjing scoffs, “Your way of thinking is so prince-like,” he says. “Is there anyone crossing your mind right now? Someone who might be the person at the end of your string, or you wanted it to be that person?”

“I have someone,” Yanjun confesses after two seconds pause. “But I don’t know if they feel the same way about me. I’m a coward at heart so I don’t want to push too far, I’m not ready to be heartbroken.”

“Oh,” Zhangjing responses, half-heartedly hoping Yanjun was talking about him for whatever possible reason. He likes Yanjun, okay? It’s just normal to hope his feeling is reciprocated. “I’m sure they will like you back. It’s harder to find a reason to hate you than to like you, you know.”

Yanjun shows Zhangjing a dimpled smile, and Zhangjing’s heart flies. “You think so?” he asks adorably.

Zhangjing tilts his head, “You don’t think so?”

“I’m not sure, I told you I was a coward. I didn’t even have the courage to _hope_.”

Zhangjing looks at the floor, trying to find another topic because he doesn’t want to end the conversation just yet.

“Why are you telling me all of these? About the red strings too?”

Yanjun hums, thinking. “Maybe because it’s you. I like talking with you about everything, even if we’re talking about nonsense.”

Silent. Zhangjing prays for his heartbeat to calm down a little bit so Yanjun can’t hear them beating so loud inside his ribcage. “Will you tell me when you meet the person of the other end of your string?” Zhangjing asks when he finds his voice again.

Yanjun gives him a little smile and nods. “Okay,” he shrugs it off easily. “You’ll be the first person who knows about it.” He says while his fingers still dancing on top of his left wrist where the strings are supposed to be there. Zhangjing can’t see it but he somehow can _feel_ where the strings are wrapping Yanjun’s skin. He absentmindedly reaches out a hand and touches Yanjun’s wrist, feeling his pulse under his fingertips.

Zhangjing doesn’t realise Yanjun’s blank stare on him as he drags his fingers in feathery touch, he only stops when he hears Yanjun’s breath hitched and Zhangjing awkwardly retreats his hand.

“I’m sorry,” Zhangjing says in almost a whisper. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to.”

“Don’t worry, I’m cool,” Yanjun says, grinning. “In all fairness, I don’t mind you touch me in other places as well.”

Zhangjing smacks Yanjun’s thigh out of reflex, but he can’t fight the warmness that spreads colour up to his ear.

_God, he’s so cute._

Zhangjing turns his head, he swears he hears Yanjun’s voice but he knows Yanjun doesn’t open his mouth to say anything. Was it _inside_ his head? Did he just hear Yanjun’s voice inside his head? Is it just him or the universe really does love to play a game with him?

Zhangjing doesn’t get an answer, of course. A night after the third elimination, Zhangjing knows his life is utterly fucked up.

(On the other side, he knows he’s falling in love with the younger boy all over again. His life is still fucked up, though.)

 

 

 

One night in the middle of preparing the performance for debut evaluation, Zhangjing helplessly realises the strings on his hand are connected to Yanjun.

One of the strings on his hand is longer than the others, making a lane through someone who’s also inside the room, talking with another trainees with his usual charming voice and charming smile. The string makes its way up to Yanjun’s left hand and ceases on the bundle of his own strings.

Zhangjing can _see_ Yanjun’s thread of strings and they’re connected to his.

The realisation elapses on him like ocean waves; pouring on him all at once, leaving him stunned and shocked but also overwhelmingly happy. The other person is _Yanjun_. The person on the other end of the string is Yanjun! Now Zhangjing gets it—his not-so-subtle crush on Yanjun wasn’t without a reason.

He can’t wait to tell Yanjun about it.

(He also can’t wait to ask if he was the person Yanjun loved before they met. Zhangjing has a lot of questions he wants to ask Yanjun about this, but it can wait. They have time.)

  


 

Zhangjing is announced as the last person to complete the final debut line up and if anything can make him happier, it’s because he’s debuting with Yanjun.

His friends hug him excitedly; Linong almost breaks all bones on his body and Xukun cries on his shoulder. Chengcheng, Justin and Zhengting shout congratulatory words as they give him a group of bear hugs, meanwhile Ziyi and Linkai’s hugs are quite normal despite their flagrant excitement to welcome him on the team. Zhangjing saves the last hug for the best, and that hug goes to Yanjun, unquestionably. Yanjun greets him with his warm dimpled smile as he envelopes Zhangjing in an embrace that speaks for all his unspoken relieve and contentment.

“You did it,” Yanjun whispers before he pulls away, “we did it. We did it together.”

Zhangjing nods, the stars on his eyes are reflecting on Yanjun’s dark orbs. “It’s good. I have a lot of things I want to talk to you, and I can’t imagine asking all of them on the phone because we’re miles apart.”

Yanjun chuckles at him. “Are you talking about our red strings?”

Zhangjing blinks, “You _knew_?”

“I can see your thread,” answers Yanjun. “It happens only recently, though. Don’t worry, now we have so much time to figure out about it together.”

Zhangjing nods with a smile. “Sure, that sounds like fun.”

  
  


 

(“Pay me,” Dinghao says to Chaoze, his palm facing upward. “Zhangjing-ge didn’t confess to Yanjun, so it’s your lost. Pay me.”

“Those dumb oldies only realise that their feelings are mutual. They aren’t even official yet,” Chaoze grunts but eventually fishes his wallet out of his jeans pocket to grab some money and hands them to Dinghao. “You’re like, 10. What are you doing with my money?”

Dinghao shoots Chaoze a dirty look. "First, I'm older than you, if I was ten then you're a fetus. Second, it's something fun."

"And what is that?"

“Planning a bridal shower event for Zhangjing-ge, of course,” Dinghao winks when the money exchange hands. “And you’re helping me, no buts. I’ve contacted our friends too and they agreed to help.”

“Can I choose the concept?” Chaoze asks hopefully.

Dinghao nods nonchalantly. “Only if you promise you won’t include a Latin dance and you won’t do it yourself with Yanchen or anyone else.”

Chaoze grins. “Okay, deal.”)


End file.
